Mariana didn't know what she was doing.
She acted on instinct, hoping that at some point in her family tree there had been a matrilinear continuum of witchcraft and magical talents.
Things tended to turn out better that way when they were consistently passed down in a direct bloodline.
She placed the dice on the table, about two inches apart from each other.
She lit five candles, one for north and so on, with the fifth one in the center of the square of tiny flames.
Her door was locked; everyone had greeted her already, although some men had rejected this opportunity. She didn't mind. In fact, the less attached she got to the crew, the better for the slaughter, but that wasn't the right mindset now. She couldn't indulge in sentimentality. There was only room for pitch black hatred.
She was trying to cast a blood curse.
It wasn't exactly anything cute or fluffy.
The cabin looked so bleak, and she couldn't figure out why. She had changed absolutely nothing about it since her encounter with the polite ghost.
She stopped to sit down and reconsider.
Was she really going to mess with what could be the most formidable entities in this universe?
Well, yes, she was. She couldn't rely on swords and guns alone. Of course she was going to mess with whatever forces she could tempt to attack Daniel.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she slapped the bleeding part of her finger onto the dice and rolled them all.
They came up in a formation that reminded her of something terrifying, a vague primal memory trace that had implanted itself into her mind. She could not name the pattern.
No ghosts, though, no spirits, either.
The room got hot all of a sudden. It was like the shade of the candlelight changed.
Then the candles went out.
There were still strands of light pushing through the rain clouds and passing the thin curtains, but the atmosphere had definitely turned sinister all of a sudden.
Mariana felt a chill pass through her body.
No apparition came.
She felt like she had failed somehow, like she had summoned something that was too horrible to show itself to her in a physical or visual form.
The tension was almost unbearable, but little by little, another thing in the room changed.
A scent of sulfur started to rise from the floor. It felt like it was coming from the wood of the Good Wife, fuming in invisible tendrils and filling up Mariana's nostrils.
The chills got worse, although the cabin was hot. She thought about running away. She couldn't do that, she couldn't shift the responsibility anymore.
This was her problem to deal with.
Then the drums came.
She ran to the door to listen to the banging.
A rhythm that was clearly not of this world echoed from the deck, causing Mariana's skin to build up sweat on its own although she had intended to command her body like she commanded her ship.
The salty beads rolling down her forehead made it hard for her to see anything.
She blinked, twice, but the sweat just dripped into her eyes. She forced her hand to obey her and wiped her face.
When she could see clearly again, there was a woman sitting in her chair.
She was a beautiful, dark lady, but there was something wrong with her face, and her body, wrapped in silk, was in an uncomfortable position that should not have been possible to maintain for long.
Her skin was rippling a bit. Mariana half expected the woman to burst into a shower of tiny critters, but no such thing happened.
The lady opened her eyes.
They were the most stunning shade of blue Mariana had ever seen, rivaling the beauty of Daniel's eyes. There was still something about them that was quite off. It was hard to say what it was - the expression of the woman did show emotions instead of just a flat stare. It wasn't any normal emotional connectivity, though.
"What do you want?" the woman asked with her angelic voice.
Mariana trembled.
"Are you the…"
The death goddess. It was surely the embodiment of death, the holy Mother of Worms who reigned supreme over the underworld that was located in a mythical place between the spiritual plane and the realm of the living.
Mariana had to harden her heart to be able to form a coherent request.
"I would like to have the heart of the pirate king in my hands while it is still beating," she said, doing a little gesture of appreciation, the slightest of nods.
"That is too poetic, not spoken like a warrior at all," the divine being said. Her lips looked all wrong. Why did they look so wrong? Why was she seated in such an uncomfortable position that looked like her spine had been snapped?
"How am I to understand which one it is? Love or hate? Do you wish death upon him, or do you merely want to die yourself before you see him drift away?"
The feverish pounding in Mariana's head increased in strength. It was hard to form thoughts in the presence of the goddess.
"Can't I have both?" she whispered before she could stop herself.
"If you want to, you can chase him to the end of the world and tie him to your blood so that he will not know peace before you choose to let him free. I can tie you together. I can give you a spell that is darker than night, stronger than the waves, more eternal than the sky itself."
"What does that mean?"
"Your love and hate will coexist, and you will be his goddess. You will command him. When you tell him to kneel, he will. And his heart will beat for you, but on the day you die, I will take you both to myself and keep you forever."
Mariana considered this; an eternity of damnation for a chance to be one with him for a split second.
Who did she think she was fooling? She existed for him and him alone. She would have chained herself to him if that had been possible.
No matter if she killed him or not, she still wanted him to love her like he had once loved her.
"I will take up the offer and give our souls to you," she replied. "At least we will be together."
"So shall it be. Give me your hand, dear Captain."
Mariana stretched out her arm, offering the bleeding hand to the death goddess.
The otherworldly woman pressed the finger against her lips.
Mariana jolted awake in her chair. She had switched places with the Mother in an instant, and the goddess was no longer here.